What's Life Without Risk?
by Stuffy the Author
Summary: Loosely based plot on the show Bones. Harry is a forensic anthropologist at the Ministry of Magic. His partner is Draco Malfoy. Solving murders, and growing interest in strange people, what could be better? HPDM eventually.
1. Murder One

**What's Life Without Risk?**

**By Stuffy the Author**

Summary: Loosely based plot on the show Bones. Harry is a forensic anthropologist at the Ministry of Magic. His partner is Draco Malfoy. Solving murders, and growing interest in strange people, what could be better?

Author's Note: So, this idea has been running around my head for a while. I've always been interested in forensic anthropology, so I decided if I could write a fan fiction about it. This story is loosely base on my favorite show, Bones. If you haven't watched, go watch. It will eventually be HPDM. I promise.

Harry sat at his desk at the Ministry of Magic, sighing as he finished up some paperwork. So this was what the savior of the wizarding world had come to. An office job doing paperwork for the higher-ups. Signing his name at the bottom with a quill, he dropped the sheet into a box marked 'out'. Looking it over one last time, he read its contents again.

_Name: Parvati Patil_

_Age: 25_

_Sex: Female_

_Race: Indian_

_Cause of Death: Multiple projectile firing curses to the head, chest, and back. Cardiac arrest._

Sighing again, Harry got up, slipping on a white lab robe and going into a room that was bustling with people all dressed similarly. Muttering the password, he stepped onto a raised platform that was guarded by a door of purple light that would shock and apprehend anyone who tried to get on there without saying the platform. Quite a few interns went this way, forgetting to say the relatively simple password of 'Anthropology'. But as it was a Muggle word, not many knew it.

Hopping up the few stairs, Harry briskly walked to the back of the platform, to one of many tables. However, unlike the other blindingly sterile tables, this one was covered in the decomposing body of one Parvati Patil. Most of the flesh was still intact, but the area around the what looked like bullet holes was bloody. Hermione Granger was standing next to the table, poking around in the flesh with gloved fingers.

"Find anything?" asked Harry as he snapped on some rubber gloves.

"Not yet," said Hermione, "But that's only to be expected when it's magical curses killing people." Harry nodded, looking down on Parvati's still recognizable face.

"At least we found her," he said softly, "And quickly." Hermione looked up, seeing the pain in Harry's eyes.

"I know, I know, it's hard for you to see another body of someone you knew," she said soothingly, "But you gotta get used to it. We've already solved the Abbott case and put that good for nothing bastard in Azkaban. We'll get this guy, too." When Harry nodded slightly, Hermione looked back down at the cold, still body of Parvati. "Well, I'm getting nothing. Not surprising, really. There wasn't even a wand at the scene of the crime. Well, wands aren't like guns. Can't just go around, buying all of them up. Still, it would have been nice to use Priori Incantatem or something, figure out who the killer was." She sighed. "Damn, wizard anthropology is so much harder than Muggle anthropology!" Muttering, she left the table to dispose of the dirty, bloody gloves.

Staring down at the unresponsive face of Parvati, Harry felt a swell of sadness. So many people had died in the war, and they were still dying. Unfortunately, now the murders couldn't be attributed to Voldemort, he was long gone. So the Ministry of Magic had set up a Department of Forensic Cases. Many of Harry's friends who had survived the war went to work here, trying to clean up the world just a little bit more.

Harry set down any tools he was going to use. What was the point? Poor Ms. Patil was killed with a wand, and wands never left gunpowder residue or silver flakes or anything. If she had been poisoned, now that would have been different.

Turning from the table, Harry was just in time to see Hermione and Ron sharing a quick kiss as she met him at the entrance to the platform. Ron was dressed in his dark black Auror robes, a name tag clipped to them. Harry frowned. Who was going to be his Auror partner on the case? He was head forensic wizard after all; he was the leading authority on the case.

"Harry, mate," called Ron, waving Harry over, "I'm supposed to give you your assigned Auror for the case." Ron held out a large manila envelope. Slitting the top, Harry took out a very official looking piece of parchment. The top was basically a bunch of political hooey, but finally, down at the bottom, was Harry's name, and next to it—

Auror Draco Malfoy.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Harry grumbled.

"What's the matter, mate?" asked Ron, looking over Harry's shoulder.

"I've got Malfoy as my partner for the case," said Harry, a disgusted look on my face. Ron's face screwed up into one of pity.

"Ouch. Sorry 'bout that. Wish we'd get partnered up sometime," he said lamely. Harry sighed.

"Yeah. Well, best go meet with Auror Malfoy and explain what we've got. Oh, by the way Hermione, have you come up with a list of suspects yet?" Harry asked her.

Hermione shook her head. "I asked the Auror department to do that. We haven't gotten one back yet. Don't forget, they have to run background checks and get statements from every single one of them." Harry nodded, then stepped off the platform so he could go and find one Draco Malfoy.

"Can I help you?" Malfoy drawled, not even bothering to look up from the paperwork he was working on as someone came into his office.

"I don't know. Don't think you're very skilled at the whole anthropology thing," came a familiar voice back at him. Looking up, Malfoy looked into the frowning face of Harry Potter, and scowled.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your squints back at the lab?" he asked, looking back at the paper in his hands.

"I would, except that this little piece of parchment right here says you're my partner for the Patil case," replied Harry, slamming the envelope down on the desk, right under Malfoy's nose. Malfoy scanned it.

"Well, what do you know. It does," he drawled, examining it. "Fine. What do you got for me?"

Harry frowned at Malfoy's lack of concern, but launched into business. A murder was no place for bickering. "The victim was Parvati Patil. She was 25 at the time of her attack, which was 2 to 3 days ago. She was found lying on the floor of her flat, covered in blood, by her sister, Padma Patil, who had gone to check up on her. The cause of death is some sort of projectile curse, with 15 shots to the head, chest, and back regions. If those didn't kill her, then the bleeding out would have caused her heart to go into cardiac arrest," Harry rattled off. Malfoy just nodded.

"Any suspects?"

"Hermione asked one of your guys to find and do background checks and get statements from all possible suspects. They still haven't gotten back to us yet."

Malfoy turned back to his work. "Alright. That's all for now." Harry stood, shocked by this sudden dismissal.

"Is that it?" he asked, confused. "We don't do anything else until the suspect list arrives?" Malfoy shook his head.

"Nope. Well, you and your little rats can go look at the body some more, tell me what you find if anything interesting comes up, but that's all for now. We can't do anything until we have a suspect list."

Harry grumbled a good-bye and left, hoping that he and Malfoy could keep their tempers in check during this whole ordeal. Hopefully, it would be a short one.

Weeks later, Harry looked back on that thought and tried to kill himself.

Alright, so this is my first attempt at writing an actual plot. If any of you are familiar with the Zodiac slayings, you may find some similarities, as well as Jack the Ripper. Thanks for reading, please review!

Love as always,

Stuffy the Author


	2. Murder Two

**What's Life Without Risk?**

**By Stuffy the Author**

**Chapter 2**

Author's Note: Hello, everyone! Well, there were no reviews for chapter one, so I'm putting up chapter two to try and garner a few of those lovely little messages. Anyways, this chapter is going to be longer, I promise, and the plot actually starts developing. Well, I guess I can't put it off any longer—

Chapter 2!

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The next day dawned bright and happy, but clouds soon took over the sky and covered London in a gray blanket of dreariness. People everywhere were yawning as a result of the weather, feeling wearier than usual.

Down in the basement lab of the Department of Forensic Cases, Harry and his team worked diligently away at the Patil case, with Harry, Hermione, and Dean Thomas examining every aspect of the body.

"Alright, if we don't find anything in the next 2 hours, I'm going to strip the bones of all flesh, tissues, fats, et cetera, and examine them. Is that alright with everyone?" Harry asked to Hermione and Dean's bent heads. They just nodded, doubtful that they'd find anything anyways.

Just then, Luna Lovegood burst into the sterile room, but was repelled by the door of purple light. "Harry, Hermione!" she called over it, "We've got something here!" She was waving a piece of parchment frantically, and something else, which she clutched in a gloved hand. Harry frowned. Luna worked at the Daily Prophet. What could they have gotten that they would have to bring to the F.C.?

Harry stepped off the platform, followed closely by Hermione. "What do you got there, Luna?" he asked, puzzlement written clearly all over his face. "Why are you wearing a glove?" Luna, wide eyed, handed Harry the parchment and Hermione what appeared to be a piece of cloth ripped off a larger piece. Hermione looked at the rag, and her eyes grew wide and fearful as she let out a gasp.

"Harry, this is a piece of Parvati's shirt!" she whispered, shocked. "I noticed a part had been torn only a few minutes ago, but didn't get the chance to say anything to you!"

Harry looked at Hermione, speechless, then turned his attention back to the letter. On it, in scrawling, poorly written hand was the message:

_This is Octivus speaking._

_I'll have you pigs over at the f.c. know that this girl wasn't murdered by anyone she knew. I am out of mind and I know it. you all will just have to try to keep up and stop me, but I doubt that's possible just try to stop Me. let's make this game, okay? I'll keep on killing until you pigs can catch Me. let's just see how many points I can rack up. heehee, I'm looking forward to this game of ours. see you in the loony bin someday._

_Octy- 1 f.c- 0_

_ps- as proof that I murdered the girl, here's a piece of her shirt. just ask the squint bitches if that's part of the bitch's shirt. love from Me._

Harry looked up at Hermione and Luna, his face pale and drawn. "Did they have a return address on this?" he asked Luna hoarsely. She just shook her head.

"No, but on the envelope 'Get to Editor' was written several times," she said, looking like she was about to throw up. Harry nodded mutely.

"Harry," whispered Hermione, "What does the letter mean?"

Harry looked down at it again, searching it for clues. "It means we've got a serial killer named Octivus who's decided to play a sadistic game with us," he said quietly, "And that a lot of people are going to die if we don't stop him soon."

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Draco examined himself in the mirror he kept hanging in his cubicle. He had come out of the proverbial closet for himself about a year ago, but was keeping things on the down low. He wasn't sure how his colleagues, family, and friends would react to this sudden change in him. Mostly the gay came out in how he preened himself constantly, but he passed it off as a metrosexual habit.

Hearing footsteps approaching, he stopped preening and pretended to be busy going through a list of suspects the Auror's had come up with for the Patil case. He sighed this was such boring work.

Not bothering to look up as a squint entered his cubicle, their defining white lab robe swinging into his view, he shuffled around some papers, then let out a gasp of shock as two objects were slapped onto his desk. Draco looked up into the pale, drawn face of his partner, Harry Potter, then back down at the two things on his desk.

Picking up the bloody piece of cloth, the color drained from Malfoy's face. "What is this?" he asked softly, his eyes wide with horror. Harry merely gestured at the piece of parchment he had slapped down. Malfoy picked it up and read it quickly, his face becoming paler, if that was possible, with every line he read. He dropped it quickly, like it was on fire.

"Any leads?" asked Harry softly. Malfoy shook his head.

"I've marked down a few that seem promising, but they all had a motive. From what I can tell of this guy-" he gestured at the parchment, "He just killed her because he could. We'll have to try to get a physical description of the guy by talking to people who'd seen her that day, or the day before, and noticed anything suspicious. We're gonna have a much wider range of suspects. Possibly thousands." He sighed and slumped back in his chair, covering his face with his hands. "I'm gonna have to take you with me," he said, his voice slightly muffled. The black haired man only nodded, and turned to leave.

"Hold it!" said Malfoy, his hand dashing out and grabbing Harry's wrist, "We're going out now!"

"What?" asked Harry, trying to shake off Malfoy's iron-like grasp, "I've got work to do!"

"Let your squints handle it," Malfoy growled. "I'm sure Granger's more than capable of doing this by herself. I don't even see why you got the head position instead of her."

Harry finally succeeded in shaking off Malfoy's grip. "She didn't want the position," he said icily, glaring at Malfoy and rubbing his wrist slightly, "And I was the next highest qualified." Malfoy just snorted.

"Whatever. We need to go interview these people," he said, "Starting with Padma Patil."

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Harry and Draco sat across the couch from Ms. Patil, sipping on some tea. The woman looked a little nervous at their presence in her home.

"So," started Malfoy, setting down his empty tea cup, "Ms. Patil. You say that on the date of your sister's death, you last saw her leaving the restaurant where you two had lunch together?" Padma nodded. It was more of the ducking of the head, but she was so nervous. Authority figures always did that to her.

"Y-yes," she stuttered out, sounding a little like dead Professor Quirrell. Harry shuddered involuntarily.

"We h-had just finished l-lunch, a-and she was g-going to go back to her f-flat to freshen u-up for a d-date she had t-that night. I'd n-never met her b-boyfriend, and I doubted t-that I ever would. S-she had a lot of b-boyfriends that she c-cycled through, dating one f-for a while u-until she lost interest, then s-she would move on to the n-next one," Padma said haltingly, not sure she should let on this much about Parvati's private life.

"Do you know what the date's name was?" asked Malfoy calmly, gently. Harry had never heard him use this kind of tone before. He looked at the other man in surprise.

Padma frowned. "I-I remember her m-mentioning it to m-me. It was s-simple, like John or s-something." She thought a little bit longer. "I've got it! H-his name w-was Jim. Parvati h-had said that he w-was taking her to Tatyana's," she said, naming a very nice and expensive restaurant that was inhabited by London's wizarding finest.

Harry raised his eyebrow skeptically. He'd seen Parvati's flat. It was a dump. She wasn't the one paying for the meal. So then that meant that 'Jim' was loaded. And pretty high up on the social ladder.

"Thank you, Ms. Patil, that will be all. Thanks for the lovely cup of tea." Malfoy flashed her a winning smile, then crabbed his robe and walked out the door. Harry nodded his thanks and followed.

"Jim's gotta be loaded," Harry hissed to Malfoy the moment the door had closed. "Tatyana's? That place has a reservation fee of 20 Galleons! I don't even want to know how much a full meal costs!" Malfoy nodded absentmindedly, staring off into the distance, mulling things over in his mind.

"I don't think there's a 'Jim' anywhere on the suspect list, or I would've tagged him for being a boyfriend. We've got lots of other boyfriends, but no one named Jim," he said, coming out of his reverie, his tone thoughtful. Harry frowned.

"No one named Jim on the suspect list? Then we're going to have to expand the suspect list farther. And I'm gonna have Hermione check that note for fingerprints, and rag." Harry shuddered as he remembered the menacing tone of the note.

'_I'm out of my mind and I know it…'_ Those were the words of a smart man. To know that he had a problem, but was able to overcome it some of the time, long enough for people to believe that he was 'normal'. Harry snorted. No one was completely normal. Normal was a delusion people came up with to make them feel safe.

Harry sighed. "I have a bad feeling about this case," he whispered to himself.

"What?" asked Malfoy as they walked down the street. Harry jumped slightly.

"Ah! I forgot you were here!"

Malfoy grimaced. "Thanks so much," he said sourly. "Try not to forget again. I prefer that people notice me." Harry just rolled his eyes and went back to staring at the ground.

"What were you talking about?" came Malfoy's voice again, breaking into Harry's reverie.

"Oh, nothing much. Just that this case seems like it's going to be a hell of a lot of trouble."

Malfoy nodded grimly. "Yeah, I feel it, too. I just hope we catch that son of a bitch before anyone else gets killed."

Reaching the F.C., Harry was met by a somber faced Hermione. "Uh-oh," he said, seeing her face. "What's wrong."

She just pointed onto the platform, where another body lay underneath the bright white lights, it's face hidden by a stark white sheet.

Harry groaned. "Oh, no," he said, "Not another one. Octivus?" Hermione nodded.

"This note was in her pocket," she said, handing him a folded square of parchment. Opening it, Harry felt a chill as he saw the way the writing was scrawled, barely legible, obviously hastily written, the letters slanting towards the bottom of the page.

_This is Octivus speaking, _it began, just like the other note.

_I'm so glad you found this one. I don't think you'll find the other body. I hid it a little too well. _

_so, pigs, how goes the hunt? not too well, probably. having fun dealing with a lunatic? I'm not who you think I am. this game is going to be so much fun. I'm going to lead you around like the dogs you are you flea-bitten mangy bastards! try and catch me!_

_Octy- 3 f.c.- 0_

Harry felt a chill run through him. "He's claiming 3," he said in a flat voice, "But we only have 2." Hermione shrugged.

"He may be bluffing."

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. It seems too genuine. Send the two letters to the right place, I can't think of their names right now. Then I want you to go over them for fingerprints." Hermione nodded and took the two letters, holding them gingerly, as though they might explode at any moment, walking away.

Harry sighed and collapsed in a chair, burying his head in his hands. Malfoy just looked on, no emotion on his face whatsoever.

Looking up, Harry met Malfoy's eyes. "We're going to catch this sick fuck," he said, cold steel in his voice, "We're going to catch him and make him goddamn pay. I'm not going to have some fucking lunatic serial killer loose in London, preying on wizards and witches and Muggles. We're going to catch him, and put him in Azkaban for the rest of his miserable shit of a life!"

Malfoy's eyes had widened at the sound of the menace in Harry's voice. "Er- right," was all he managed to squeak out before he left in a rush, escaping to the quiet confines of his cubicle. "I never thought I'd be so happy to see my prison cell before," he said quietly, stroking its rough walls lovingly. "Working with Potter is going to drive me absolutely crazy."

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And so ends Chapter 2! Hope this is keeping you all entertained. If it's not, just send me a review telling me so, and I'll speed it up for you!

Anyways, I don't know how often I'll be able to write what with school coming up soon, but I'll try to update this as often as I can. They might be few and far between, but I will update! –strikes heroic pose-

Until next time,

Your faithful authoress,

Stuffy


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